


The Crown Jules

by CreepyCoat



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blood/mild gore, British spelling/grammar, Choking, Could set the story somewhere after Book VIII, Cuddly aftercare, F/M, It is fluffy in places, Knife Play, M/M, all consensual, mentions of past Julian/Asra, probably not medically accurate although I did try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyCoat/pseuds/CreepyCoat
Summary: What was the limit to his healing?If damaged; which one would no longer be viable for restoration?The jewel in his chest, the heart or the brain locked inside his crown?He had to know. The crown or the jewel?~*~Julian convinces the apprentice to help him test the limits of his healing ability.





	The Crown Jules

**Author's Note:**

> Gifted to my wifey: Anytramaksnisic <3  
> We got sucked into The Arcana world thanks to Julian. ;)  
> She created a gorgeous piece of art of Julian in bondage.  
> Check out her art on tumblr, by the same name: Anytramaksnisic.
> 
> Important Note:  
> The apprentice's features, name and gender are left entirely vague -as true to the game- so that any reader can assimilate with them. That's why it's been categorised as both M/M and M/F.
> 
> Happy reading <3

*  
Nestled in the corners of my shop, several candles burned the midnight oil, supplying a warm ambient glow. Pursing his lips, Julian dragged a gloved finger along the glass top cabinet that hugged the center of the room. Below the glass lay many vials and jars filled with colourful liquids and curious items, each catching his eye for a second before moving on to inspect the next.

Stood next to him, our shoulders brushed as I shuffled Asra’s deck of cards. The cards whispered to me in their strange way and kissed my fingertips, almost as if seeking comfort. Briefly I wondered if they were missing Asra, their master. He’d left again on another trip to somewhere, _“You can’t follow just yet.”_ Reverently I slid them into a protective leather pouch and placed it securely within the glass cabinet.

Julian’s fingers tapped a little beat, somewhat nervous yet jaunty. Inside his mind he hesitated; his words stalling on his tongue. Sucking in a breath, he mentally pepped himself to go for it, to speak.

“So, I… uh-”

His fingers ended their little performance, spreading out flat, then pulling back, knuckles templed in a arch. His other hand rubbed at his neck. And all the while -in what he thought was in a covert manner- his eye ran the length of my body, pausing bashfully at the V of my shirt that exposed my chest. It was one of Asra’s. Since we lived together we often shared clothing without even thinking to ask. The bond we held was familiar and caring; sharing touches and even changing in the same space. Although Asra did tend to wear rather vibrant coloured garb in ~~hideous~~ rainbow patterns. Thankfully this shirt was just plain white, the buttons lying idle along the seam.

Interrupting him I placed a single finger over his bottom lip. I found it incredibly endearing that he still fumbled when initiating anything a little stronger than kisses or touches with me. Although tonight we had planned something a little different, a little dangerous. My stomach had been coiled with apprehension since the discussion. However I didn’t let it show. Instead with a confident sway I tried my best to conceal my worry and envisioned my aura flowing calmly in a loose circle.

My other hand gripped his jacket, unfastening the two top most buttons. Flushing, Julian’s pale skin darkened a pretty pink, an eager smile curling the corners of his lips. I pinched the now free slip of fabric and led him behind me into the back room.

He ducked under the curtain, the fabric tickling his brow and running like velveteen fingers over the top of his scalp. With a flick of my fingers; my magic undid the single gold tassel that held up the curtain. It flooded out after us; a deep purple colour embroidered in places with gold stars that seemed to twinkle and glitter.

Above us the single lantern hung unlit. Reaching up, I concentrated on creating a small fire, picturing a little heart beating in my palm. Carefully I settled it inside, watching the blue flame make itself at home upon the wick. The lit lantern bathed the room in cool tones of cyan.

With wonderment Julian gazed up at the lantern, the blue and green flame highlighting the tepid grey colour of his iris. Nervous yet thrumming with excitement he settled himself on top of the round table, crossing his long legs neatly. The several blankets thrown over the table ruffled under him, hitching up. His arms reached out to find me, long gloved fingers hooking in the material of my shirt.

Willingly I allowed him to pull me close. His hands travelled down my arms and clasped around my waist, one hand tentatively resting on my hip.

Cocking my head, I looked up at him blinking just once, slow and deliberate.

He rewarded me with a cheeky grin his lips perking upwards revealing shiny white teeth.

Pressing upwards I connected my mouth to his, roughly licking along that smile.

He practically melted into my kiss, his breathing a little out of sync. Tilting his head he relaxed his jaw allowing me more access.

My tongue slinked in underneath his canine tooth, running along the sharp edge, tasting the slick mess of saliva inside his mouth. Something herbal combined with a more acrid flavour… the aftertaste of a Salty Bitter maybe? I felt his tongue shift and move to lap at mine, meekly at first, waiting to see if he had permission.

He didn’t.

Bringing my arms up to his nape, I coiled my hand in the threads of his unruly red hair. The tendrils twisted along my fingers, silky and lush. Tugging sharply I yanked his head away, our mouths separating with an awkward click of teeth. Forcibly I arched back his long pallid white neck, exposing his jugular and that glorious Adams apple.

His breath hitched in pleasure, shifting in my grip so that his good eye could meet mine. Lust bloomed in his expression, his pupil blown wide, engulfing the sliver of grey.

“Oh yesss, just like that.” He licked his lips, watching me, waiting expectantly for more.

The anticipation was what he enjoyed the most, wondering as to my next move. Whether or not I’d actually put into play his little experiment. Dipping into my pocket I removed an ornate dagger. It was the first one I had come across while searching through Asra’s stuff.

Catching the glint of the dagger in the cyan light, Julian stiffened.  
I paused, holding the dagger aloft, I would never intentionally hurt him. In our brief time together it had been made clear that Julian liked pain. Even so we always talked about it beforehand.

Allowing him a moment to think, I skillfully spun the blade between my fingers. Asra had taught me, though I was nowhere near as good as him.

A noise of amusement escaped Julian’s lips.

The blade came to a stop, the sharp edge pointing down safely. Patiently I watched him study the blade, giving him the chance to freely voice any concern. For a moment I swore I saw recognition in his eye. It was gone in a flash and hidden behind a tight smile. Uncoiling my fingers from his hair I gently caressed his neck, bringing our faces back together.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. My voice sounded loud in the quiet of the room. Beyond the stained glass windows lay Vesuvia. Grand, beautiful yet broken in places, it never slumbered. In this moment it was only us two hidden away in the cosy pocket of the here and now.

The tight smile on his face wavered and hesitantly he spoke, “You’re eh not going to perform some weird kind of blood ritual?” He added hurriedly with a hint of fright, “You’re not right?”

I snorted, the desire to burst into laughter overpowering. “You have strange notions about magic.” Gently I wrapped a lock of his hair from his nape around my finger, twirling it, “Think about Mazelinka and her soup, that’s magic.”

He mumbled an unconvinced agreement. A memory from the past flitted like a cloud over his eye. Expression pinched he spoke quietly, more to himself than me, “Perhaps… only him.”

“What?” My tone was gentle, wondering as to what he could mean. Although in my mind, the memory Faust shared with me came to the forefront. I could not ascertain for sure but it had seemed clear that Asra and Julian had had something between them. It occurred to me then that this dagger was the very same Asra had used to cut Julian’s palm. Now I planned to do something similar. Was this poetic or ironic? I couldn’t tell.

Breaking me from my thoughts, Julian gripped my wrist that wielded dagger and raised it up to his mouth. Maintaining eye contact with me, he licked along the sharp edge. It took only a second after the blade left his tongue for a trail of blood to bead up in its wake. The beads spilled and dripped down to the tip, blotches falling on to the centre of his lip, sinking into the dry cracks, staining the skin there a marvellous red.

Pulling my hand from him, I grabbed his shoulders with both my hands (A little clumsily with the dagger still in my palm) and forced him backwards till his upper body was pressed flat beneath me and pinned to the table. His long legs wiggled awkwardly between mine. He was so tall that even when bent over a table, his feet comically still touched the floor.

The grin he shot me from his blood stained lip was delightfully devilish.

“Tongue.”

Coyly he slid it out, running it along his lips, mussing the blood splatter.

Nimbly I hoisted myself up onto the table, straddling his stomach, the bottoms of my feet dangling over the edge. Leaning over him, our noses inches from touching, I noted that the cut had already healed. His power or ‘curse’ as he referred to it was fascinating. If the cut had been deeper, would it have healed just as quick? Or would the flesh have taken longer to knit back together? For a second I pondered about what would happen if I were to sever his tongue completely, leaving nothing but a gory stump; thick gloopy blood pooling in his jaw. Would it heal as a stump or would the tongue miraculously regrow like a lizard regrowing its own tail? While thinking these strange thoughts I padded my fingertips around his lips teasingly.

His tongue poked in and out to lap at my nails.

Without warning I slotted two fingers inside his wet maw.

Recoiling at the intrusion, his mouth sealed shut. For a second I thought he’d bite me and sink those pretty teeth into my skin. Instead he started sucking. The hot pressure around my fingers slowly building, slick and intense. I gasped quietly in the cozy room, his mouth was like a ferocious whirlpool determined to suck the blood out through the very cells of my skin.

Pressing my fingers in deeper, I felt along the smooth angular edges of his teeth, exploring where the enamel melted away to soft gum. Crooking my finger I dug my nail harshly into the upper ridge of his mouth and pushed it all the way back until I felt a moist fleshy thing vibrate against my skin. The uvula; pinching it between my fingers. The texture felt strange almost rubbery and incredibly slippery.

Instantly he bucked, lungs heaving. Gagging he hacked and coughed around my fingers, on the verge of choking.

Setting the dagger aside, my freed hand clasped around his throat and squeezed. His chest arched up, pressing into mine. I stared transfixed into his grey eye, watching tears pool and blight his vision. There was trust there in his expression, he trusted me. I tightened my grip.

The lithe body beneath me started to spasm, long legs kicking wildly, boots raucously thumping off the floor. The rapid and wild movement threatened to jostled me askew so I clamped my legs tight around his middle. Which in turn only served to further restrict his attempts to take a breath.

Tears spilled from his good eye, his skin changing colour from a healthy blushed pink to a dangerous purple. And then he simply grew slack, his clenched fists easing open and his legs falling limp. Almost as if he had simply gone to sleep. He looked peaceful, his closed eyelid showcasing dark circles. Mazelinka was right, he needed to sleep more. Maybe I could help with that.

I released my hand from around his neck and admired my handiwork. In the shape of my fingers black bruises bloomed as beautiful as fluttering rose petals. Instantly the magic sigil appeared tattooing white glowing lines on his throat. Under my watchful gaze those beautiful dark flowers began to fade to a motley purple and then a haggard blue.

Prying my other hand from his mouth, a long thread of saliva kept us connected together. Glistening in the blue light the thread snapped, clinging to my fingers. Upon closer inspection I noted that the saliva was coated in blood but interestingly enough the two solutions didn’t mix. Rather, the blood was carried on top like oil on water. Its consistency watered down and lacking the usual thick quality of blood.

Julian jerked a little underneath me, his arms twitching unnaturally as his single eye opened and blinked rapidly, the pupil unfocused. It took less than a minute for him to properly come to, the glassy quality waning from his vision. Cupping his cheek I ran my thumb along his cheek bone, brushing away the wetness.

The blotchy cloud like marks dotting his throat changed again to a brilliant green, growing smaller, the colour simpering to a sickly yellow. Like time winding backwards, the damage was undone; the bursted blood vessels inside his throat sealed themselves whole again. In the end the bruise had vanished completely along with the sigil, leaving behind perfect unmarked skin.

Wheezing a little, a thin sheen of sweat glittered his brow as he managed a raspy laugh. Stars twinkled in his eye as he ran a hand through his hair. Dampened with cold sweat his auburn hair had transformed to a gorgeous scarlet.

Affectionately I gazed down at him, noting the speckled blood on his teeth, like lipstick marks stuck on a woman. “Welcome back.” I said to him in a dulcet tone.

His eye never left mine as he implored, “I didn’t leave you alone for too long, I hope.”

The adoring smile on my face and fond shake of my head answered him.

Just then an uncontrollable shiver ripped through him, the tremble palpable to my own body.

Concern prickled me, “Are you alright?”

A residual tremor made him close his eye for a moment, his bottom lip quivering. When he opened his eye again he tilted his head coyly and pinned his gaze to my lips. Slapping a fake confident smirk on his face he wiggled his eyebrows at me flirtatiously. “Never felt better,” He said in a fake syrupy voice.

My eyes rolled briefly in my head. Julian at times was impossible, incorrigible. Never one to admit when he might be in pain, a true martyr. I fixed him with an unimpressed look, “Julian.”

His lips folded into a little line, his eye darting about the room while he tried to come up with an excuse.

 _“Julian.”_ I warned.

He huffed out a little laugh, admitting defeat. “Honestly… right well since you aren’t going to relent. I- I uh,” His eye travelled around the ceiling, thinking. When he finally did answer his voice was breathily, “I felt… it felt as though I’d died. Everything was dark for a moment.”

I grimaced at that.

He continued. “And yet when I was coming to or shall we say, reawakening?” He smiled that grin of his. The one I liked, that revealed most of his teeth. “I could feel electric sparks coursing throughout my entire body, like mini planets shifting inside my organs. Entire galaxies of stars spiralling within my brain. As if for a moment, all the world’s knowledge was right there, within my grasp...”

“And then?”

He shifted under me, “It- It faded like a forgotten dream once I came to.”

I shuffled along with him, adjusting to keep myself in place. Beneath me I felt his his thigh muscles beneath me tense and relax, “It’s still there though, that feeling of galaxies, just a little out of my reach.” He smiled then, looking up at me truly excited, “We have to try _it_.”

I knew he was referencing the main topic from our discussion. I leant down and pressed my mouth to his, delivering a far softer kiss than the ones we shared just before. I wanted the kiss to say what I couldn’t verbally. That I really cared for him, that I was willing to go through with this but I would do so with love.

He mumbled words into my mouth so I pulled back just enough to allow him to speak, his words ghosting along my lips, “Sweet, you’re sweet, delightfully so.”

My mouth crooked upwards in a part embarrassed part exasperated smile. I raised myself up again, my seated upper half towering over his form lying prone beneath me. I could tell by the way he curved his body so that his chest and pecs were puffed up in the opening in his jacket, that he liked the position. That he enjoyed being dominated.

Clutching the dagger again I traced it’s blade down the revealed skin of his upper torso, his chest rose and dipped under the blade, his heart rate picking up with avid anticipation, waiting for me to slice into him. Instead I slipped the blade lower and onto the material of his jacket, letting it glide down to find the last button. With a flick, I unhooked it, severing the button entirely.

“Take it off.”

Eagerly he rose up underneath me till we were both sat upright. Straddling his midriff, the new positions caused me to slip lower till I was seated salaciously on his lap and Oh! Judging by the hard member prodding into my behind; Julian was definitely enjoying this. Teasingly I pressed downwards, grinding into him. The response was instantaneous; he threw his head back, stifling a groan between his lips.

“Strip now.”

“Oh ho hohoho,” He laughed, voice sultry. “I love it when you use that tone.”

Overeager he crossed his arms whipping the jacket and gloves off, tossing them aside into the room without a care. Comically his long arms whacked the lantern above us and it swung precariously, twirling blue and green shadows all across the room. Bashfully he gripped the edge of the lantern apologising as he steadied it. Blushing again, he inspected the lantern’s panes, checking he hadn’t broken them. The blue flame inside, spun and pranced mischievously at his clumsiness.

“It’s fine,” I reassured him, gripping a hand to his neck, my thumb brushing the shell of his ear. Pushing closer I peppered kisses along the seal of his lips and the jut of his cheekbone. Honestly he was too cute sometime. Pulling back I was delighted to see that his pink blush had deepened to a scarlet red.

Embarrassed he averted his gaze.

Sighing fondly I pressed my forehead to his, closing my eyes, simply basking in the moment. Just feeling the slender but sturdy thighs beneath mine. Along with the tentative hand that creeped around my middle, sneaking under the hem of my shirt to shyly touch the soft skin along my back.

I mumbled a pleased sound and felt his breath, kiss along my face.

“Julian…”

He perked up underneath me.

A smile pricked my lips, “ _Jules_ ,” I huskily whispered.

Audiby he gasped, his body hitching underneath mine. I took it to mean that he liked the nickname.

My eyes travelled down lower. Now that the tight fitting jacket was removed, his silky white blouse had billowed out elegantly, the collar charmingly crooked. Admiring the plunging neckline I brought my hand up to palm along his chest, gripping his pectoral. For him to be such a tall lanky man, he was nicely built. The muscle was supple under my firm grip while wiry chest hairs tickled my palm. With a flick of my wrist I swapped the dagger from one hand to the other and pressed it into his chest. Pressing firmly to the spot right between his sternum and left pectoral. I could sense his heart beating just beneath the surface there, the blood rushing and pulsing.

“Are you ready for this?”

He laughed lowly, almost self deprecatingly, “You needn’t even ask.”

Locking eyes with him, I sunk the sharp blade inwards. It slid into him without any resistance like sinking into butter.

Julian stuttered and started underneath me, his body stiffening and locking up strangely.

I paused not daring to press any deeper, terrified that I had pierced his heart. I swallowed struggling to hold back the waves of fear. I knew Julian had a fetish for death, claiming her to be a cruel mistress. That she took one look at him and walked away, leaving him in his current state. Still fear threatened to drown me, sweat beading on my brow. Could his healing abilities go this far, what was the limit? If he were beheaded; his brain slain away from the body, would either continue to thrive? At what point was restoration no longer viable? Was the heart or the brain the key to his healing? That had been the point of the discussion, the experiment. Where did this curse originate; within the jewel in his chest, his heart? Or locked inside his crown, the brain. He had needed to know. The crown or jewel?

“Keep going.” His voice was stilted, a fierce determined look in his eye.

Visibly shaking I dragged the blade upward carving a deep thick line. Stopping just below his collar bone, I sat back and watched the blood gush out in thick streams, soaking into his white shirt. It was ruined now. Absently I looked down at my own attire, covered in blood splatter. It was clear that neither Asra nor myself would be wearing this shirt again.

The flowing stream of blood seemed to call to me, drawing away my attention from my clothing. Tentatively my fingers travelled along the seam of Julian’s split skin, afraid to hurt him.

“Open me up.” Julian sounded strange. His voice hollow yet giddy, almost as if hysteria had crept in.

I knew there was no turning back, he wanted this. Embedding my fingers into the slit, blood slithered up inside my nail beds.

Julian hissed and bucked underneath me, panting heavily. “M-more.”

I pushed both my hands inside, prying the skin apart like stretching a thick elastic band, his skin was so taut and firm. I’d need a clamp to pry it properly apart.

Sensing the futility, Julian grabbed the dagger and easily slashed two horizontal marks into the vertical slit, making a little pocket.

“K-keep going, please.”

I nodded, I just wanted the experiment over with. Like stripping the bark off a tree, I was able to peel back the pocket. Essentially opening him up to reveal the inner workings of his chest.

He squirmed uncontrollably beneath me, sweat dripping on his brow and pouring down to pool in his collarbone. During the painful peeling process he had managed to clamp his teeth shut on his own tongue, biting into the flesh and causing blood to spurt. He coughed and sputtered, holding a hand over his mouth to stop the spray. All the while he apologised profusely.

Trying my best to smile reassuringly at him, I gave him a moment to settle. Mentally in my own mind I placated myself, reminding myself over and over again that it was okay, that Julian wanted this. Resuming, I held the slab of flesh between my fingers. It was mesmerising in a horrific way; revealing layers of pink fleshy webbing that held together yellow-orange blobs of fat. Grossly fascinating, I had never seen such a sight. The flap of skin resisted against my grip, attempting to lay itself flat and restitch itself back together.

Stilling it’s ploy Julian pierced the dagger through the slab, pinning it to his side just below his armpit. He stifled a cry behind clenched teeth, tears smarting his vision. Masochistically he pushed through the pain, craning his neck to admire the box shaped jigsaw piece carved into him. It revealed thick oblong curved shaped bones. His ribs. Beneath them a thick pink bloated shape inflated and deflated. His lungs. But there nestled between the lungs and hidden safely in its cage of bone lay his heart. Unlike the gimmicky round shape used for Valentines, this was a genuine heart. About as big as my fist and scarlet-maroon in colour, coated in a grimy layer of orangey-yellow fat. It beated continuously in a seesawing motion, up and down, up and down. Fiercely, determined to do its job.

Sighing Julian watched his own heart beat in his chest, “Not even death could quell this monstrosity.” He pressed a desperate kiss to my mouth and pleaded into my ear, “Please, please darling...”

I hesitated momentarily before planting a fierce kiss to him, nipping his lips and tasting the metallic tinge of blood from his tongue. A distraction... but for him or me? Returning to the task at hand I wedged my fingers between the curved pairs of bones and managed to press my fingertips to his beating heart.

Julian froze in place, not even a breath of air escaping him. I could only assume that a form of shock had taken over, nulling any pain he might feel. He had explained to me before that pain was a warning mechanism that could be overridden… if the pain was severe enough.

Closing my eyes, I envisioned my magic within my body; rivulets of energy lying in a reservoir at the base of my feet. Like snakes coiling upwards I pictured the energy course up through my veins like lighting zig-zagging along each capillary. At my fingertips several blue sparks of electricity flickered free. I settled back further on my hunches, feeling the hard mass of Julian’s clothed erection bite up into my backside. I clenched my fingers into a claw shape and pictured lighting forking in the sky, travelling down in crooked angles and instantly the blue energy zapped out to its destination: Julian’s heart.

He spasmed underneath me, his chest lurching upright, his heartbeat stuttering.

With bated breath, I watched.

The heart managed to rectify itself, returning to a normal rhythm.

“Again,” Julian croaked out in a hoarse voice.

Grimacing I ignored the thoughts screaming in my brain for me to stop. Eyes closed I pictured a rod of lighting forked and powerful crashing down into the earth with a crack. A second longer zap shot out.

The fleshy jewel within its cage of bones ceased then. No longer beating.

Julian slumped backwards his body hitting the table with a thump. Quickly I grabbed his nape and gently cupped his crown, his precious skull hosting that stupid big brain of his. This better go as he had planned! Without sparing a second my free hand gripped his heart and started massaging, just the way he showed me. The way I’d practised, there was no way I would have agreed to do this without that.

For several long agonizing moments, nothing. His heart simply refused to respond to my ministrations. The fire in the lantern above us dimmed to a melancholy ice blue. My blood roared and screamed in my ears blocking my hearing as my thoughts screamed, _Julian, Julian, **JULIAN!**_

Fear and adrenaline flooded my body, dulling my common sense and freeing my restrictions. Raising my fist I trembled terrified at what I was about to do. Internally I mentally begged and pleaded. The room seemed to spin around us and I swore shadows of death danced in the dim corners threatening to steal Julian from me.

As sure as a finger and thumb performing a click, Julian’s heart restarted. Returning easily back into a proper movement. The curse had seemingly revived him and thus answered the question leading to this experiment.

I was unable to move or respond, my fist still raised in the air, ready to strike his heart in a vain attempt to revive him. Rivulets dripped down my wrist from my blood stained fingers. Julian’s blood. My face had turned ashen and grey from fear and was soaked with sweat and tears. Faintly I was aware that I was sobbing loudly, petulantly like a child.

Groggily Julian blinked returning to life. He pulled the dagger loose from his side and pressed the patch of skin over, sparing one last look at his beating heart.

Numbly I became aware of arms encircling my body and holding me tight.

“I’m alright.” Julian whispered in a soothing tone, trying to comfort me. In his safe embrace I collapsed completely on top of him, burying my face in his neck, feeling his blood pump beneath his skin. Never again. Never would I agree to do something like that. I slumped and heaved relieved pants of air. It wouldn’t matter how much Julian begged in future, we were never going to try that again.

His hands gripped my face and pulled me up, pressing kisses all over, from the corner of my jaw to my forehead and every other crook in between.

I opened my eyes to glare at him, a scowl on my face, that had been stupidly dangerous, I wanted to scold him. But it was hard to find my voice to yell at him, the tears were still falling freely.

He looked devastated for a moment at my expression, “I’m sorry,” He pressed more fervent kisses to my mouth now, “I’m so sorry.” Pulling a soft handkerchief from his pocket he tenderly dabbed away my tears.

I hiccupped, the tears stopping but now I felt wretched, my body tired and my energy depleted.

Holding me in his arms, Julian lay back on the table. For a couple minutes we rested there. He cradled me, his fingers soothingly combing through my hair. Shifting a little I belatedly noticed that there was a wet patch on his groin. I shook my head in disbelief, _he had actually gotten off to that._

Eventually the heavy tension dissipated somewhat and the hard tabletop grew uncomfortable, what with our bodies bent in awkward angles. Scooping me upright, Julian held onto me. It appeared that I was more traumatised than him. After all this had been what he had wanted. Whereas I had not expected anything like that. That had been too real, too much.

Gently Julian hauled us both to our feet, he seemed perfectly fine, not even a residual shake evident in his body. Unlike me; a tremor kept my hands shaking like a fragile elderly person whose nerves had been fried over decades of stress.

Somehow Julian managed to half carry half drag me upstairs to the bedroom. I’d never taken him up there before. Yet even in my frazzled state, I was able to notice that he was very familiar with his surroundings, suggesting he had been here before. Most likely with Asra. That thought stung a little. Was I jealous over their possible previous relationship? That was if it had even been a relationship...

He perched me on the bed and stripped away my shirt, leaving me bare. I wasn’t bothered by the sudden nudity and nor was he. This wasn’t a sexual moment, far from it and simply being nude didn’t automatically mean that. I was used to being nude around Asra. While Julian was used to seeing many naked bodies being a doctor. Still he flushed a little, looking at the drying blood stains on the shirt, embarrassed that he had ruined it.

“You aren’t cold, are you?” He asked concerned, his hand running a soothing pattern along my shoulder.

I shook my head, upstairs was warm, the heat from the day had risen up and remained. I took the ruined shirt from him and threw it to the corner of the room with the rest of the dirty washing. I would discard it tomorrow. Lost in these thoughts, my eyelids drooped heavily.

Dimly I was aware in the background of the sound of Julian walking away from me. Then the tap running in the kitchen. He returned to my side with a damp wet cloth. Delicately he washed away all the traces of blood, _his blood_ from my body. I felt my eyelids close. His ministrations were so soft and light along my skin, he had such gentle hands. I wanted to lean into him, into his space and just hold him.

He tugged off his own shirt, mopping up the drying blood from his torso with expertise. How many patients wounds had he cleaned and washed away? How much blood had he seen in his lifetime? Enough to not be affected by this, I supposed.

Carefully he maneuvered me in the bed, his arms resting under the soft skin of my knees and neck to lift me. I let him, it was nice to be cradled in someone’s arms. Lightly he draped a blanket over my form. Several pillows and extra blankets shuffled and moved with the motion. The bed was filled with an assortment of soft marshmallowy cushions like a nest, just the way Asra liked it.

Shucking his boots, Julian climbed into the bed next to me, his body surprisingly cool to the touch under the blanket. We lay there in the dark for a moment, the night yawning and breathing around us. After awhile my heart rate returned to normal. I twisted myself around and felt along Julian’s chest searching. In the dark room I pulled back the blanket to see the wound. Only it had healed already, even in the dark I could see that there wasn’t even a single mark or indentation to prove it had even been there or that the whole ordeal had even happened.

Entwining his fingers with mine, Julian brought my palm up to his and pressed kisses along my knuckles.

I sighed low and lost in the dark. “Never again.” I whispered with finality.

I felt Julian nod an affirmation, his curly hair bouncing somewhat and brushing my forehead. Then he attempted to lighten the mood, “Well now we know that not even a heart attack will kill me.”

The jest was poorly timed and I had to physically refrain myself from kicking him under the blanket. I collected myself, reminding myself that everything was okay, he was alive, we were safe. Still one thought ate at my mind niggling away at the corners.

“What was Asra to you?” I asked in the dark, my eyes closed not wanting to look at Julian’s face.

He stiffened a little and then spoke, “We were friends, and then… more but not quite.”

I opened my eyes at that sentence, feeling confused.

He shrugged a stiff shoulder, “It was complicated, more complicated than I was aware of at the time.”

“What did you want to be with him?”

He inhaled, his breath a little shaky, “What did I want with him?” He repeated under his breath. Maybe deep down he himself didn’t know. “Important maybe? To be desired by him I guess? I- I’m not even sure… what we had,” He cleared his throat correcting himself, “More like what we didn’t have. It uh, it wasn’t good. One sided and… selfish at times.” His voice trailed off sounding forlorn.

Quietly I listened to him waiting for the right moment to speak, for the right thing to ask. “What do you want now?”

Julian huffed and I could tell he was quickly trying to think of a subject change. I interjected by pressing my palm to his left pectoral, right over his heart and squeezing. Wordlessly reminding him what I had just done at his behest.

Accepting defeat, he exhaled long and low, his hand coming up to rest over mine. “I told you that night at the dock,” He licked his lips, a little embarrassed, “I want you.”

Even in the dark I could tell that he was blushing furiously.

I smiled, “I want you too.”

He sighed long and wistful, pressing his hand to the back of my neck and pulling me close. “Oh, I don’t know why you would.” He hushed out, his breath tickling the top of my scalp. “I’ll only end up hurting you.” He waxed on in an over dramatic tangent.

I’d heard this line of reasoning far too many times before and each time I’d argue back and fight my case, refusing to be pushed away. However this night I didn’t have the strength. Lying in his arms in a warm bed, his heart thumping soundly beneath my palm. The horror of the experiment we had just performed was fresh in my mind, yet the sickly feeling was already fading. He’d gotten his answer and I’d made him promise that that would be the last of the experiments.

“I’m still here, aren’t I.” I finally interrupted him.

His tangent quietened on his lips, “Yes you are,” He pulled me closer and pressed a firm kiss to my forehead, whispering, “And I honestly can’t fathom why.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please lemme know what you think; comments make spending my free time writing worth while. They might even persuade me to write a part two where they experiment with the crown. ;)  
> <3


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